Always Hope
by BrokenSky49
Summary: Just when things were getting better between Fitz and Simmons, she was taken by the monolith. Fitz refused to give up hope, but when she returns, things are a bit...different, and now he doesn't know what to do. All he knows is that he loves her. But how do you have hope for a friend who has no hope for herself? Post season 2 finale/Alternate take on season 3. Enjoy! (On hiatus)
1. Always Hope

**So this started out as a one shot and escalated into so much more. I hope you enjoy this plot bunny that has bewitched me, body and soul.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Agents of Shield or anything in the Marvel Universe. *Cries many tears at this tragedy***

* * *

 _ **Always Hope**_

* * *

 _"Sometimes I forget that you're not here anymore. I'd start rambling on about different tech and biochemistry and no one was really there to understand me. Daisy told me I'd do that when you were gone before, too. Except this time I snap out of it and remember. Just goes to show you how much my mind is healing, I suppose. And it really has been healing. I'm still different, and that's okay, but I'm adjusting. Words hardly stutter any more, my ideas flow more easily. You'd be proud, I'm sure._

 _Coulson has a new bionic hand now. I designed it myself. It's basically like a super arm. It has an ultimate tensile strength of 27,900. Not quite the strength of carbon nanotubes, but still, that's something you and I can work on together. Once you're back of course. Once you're safe._

 _Skye, I mean Daisy, says hello, and that she misses you. We all do._

 _...I do."_

Fitz paused, clearing his throat. He could get through this. He needed to do this. He became tired of not being able to talk to her, and although this seemed a little unorthodox, it provided him with some semblance of comfort. But it was still hard, looking at the blob that had taken Simmons from him. The range of emotions he felt when he watched the tape went from despair to anger. Anger at himself. Anger at the mass. Anger at the entire situation that lead up to that moment. It wasn't fair.

Daisy stood next to him, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. "Go on, it's okay."

Leo blinked back tears and nodded. He continued, his voice shaking.

 _"It's not like there was any warning. You were gone, just like that. Just when things were finally getting better. Not necessarily normal, but better._

 _And now you're gone, and I wasn't even there to help._

 _There was a security camera recording the room when it happened. I've watched the video so many times, the images became engrained in my head. It sucked you in, whatever that thing was. The look of terror on your face was unforgettable. It took you, terrified you, sucked you in, and now you're gone. It was so quick, so uneventful. No one was there to hear you scream. Sometimes I think that, if I'd just waited for you, you'd be here, safe. We could've gone to dinner like I planned. But you're gone, and I can't help but feel that it's my fault._

 _We tried getting you back, provoking it, thinking we could maybe get it to spit you out again. But then it almost took Daisy. We were there to save her, but Coulson put an end to that strategy afterwards. I understood, but it didn't hurt any less. I felt like we were giving up on you. Of course Coulson said we weren't, that we'd never give up. Finding you had become our top priority._

 _That was three months ago._

 _We all know our priorities changed. More destruction was brought on by the Avengers. There was someone causing a ruckus in Hell's Kitchen. More people with abilities were being found. And with no progress in retrieving you, wherever you'd gone, it was only natural that finding you wasn't on their minds anymore._

 _It stayed in mine._

 _I can't just forget about you, Jemma Simmons. You've been in my life for so long. Someone I could count on. But when I needed you, you left. I know things, for the most part, turned out okay, but still._

 _I missed you._

 _And right now, you need me. So I'm not leaving you, okay? I don't know if you can hear me, or even if you're alive. But I'm not leaving. Never._

 _I promise._

 _I will find you. Wherever you've gone, whoever you've become by now, I will find you, and we will get through this together._

 _Because I love you, Jemma Simmons, and I always will."_

Fitz put the note down. He felt better, after saying all of that, even if it did take a while to get through. He wasn't sure if Jemma could hear him, or if she was even there at all, but reading the note aloud at least gave him a relieving sense of closure.

"You okay?" Daisy was still next to him, giving him a sympathetic look.

He rubbed his eyes, making sure that none of the tears surfacing made it down his cheeks. "Yeah, I think so."

The two of them stood in silence for a while, looking at the mass that had taken their friend. Leo refused to let feelings of doubt take over. Jemma was safe. They would get her back. They had to. The idea of Simmons being gone forever terrified him. He couldn't let himself contemplate that possibility.

"We'll find her." Daisy spoke up, as if reading his mind.

"I know." He had to believe so, for his sake as much as Simmons'. Leo looked at Daisy and nodded, giving her a grim smile. "I know."

* * *

Simmons was running. She lost track of how long, but her legs were growing tired. She couldn't give up, though. Never. Not when she knew that someone was out there, looking for her, waiting for her to come back.

"I'll be back Fitz." She huffed out. "Just you wait. I won't give up on me if you don't"

She glanced behind her. It was dark, so she couldn't see anything, but she didn't stop. She kept going. Her lungs burned, her legs throbbed, her bare feet stung as they collided with jagged rocks. But she kept going.

As long as he had hope, so did she. And she knew he had hope. He always did.

That was why she loved him.

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 **Again, thanks for reading!**


	2. Come Back to Me

**So this happened. I guess I'm continuing this story after all. This chapter is disgustingly short, I know, but I think that's going to be the format of this thing. A bit like a series of short one shots. So, technically, this story is still complete. It just leaves a lot to your imagination.**

 **Disclaimer: We all know where this show would be headed if I owned it. (Hint: Not the way it's going now. *Gives Will the side eye*)**

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Four months. Four months she'd been gone, and Fitz was no closer to getting her back than the day she left. But he wasn't ready to give up yet. He had to have hope that she would come back.

But Coulson was saying they needed to evacuate. To abandon the base.

They couldn't take the monolith with them.

Couldn't. Shouldn't. Wouldn't.

Fitz screamed, demanded, begged, bargained, denied. But Coulson wouldn't budge, and after Mack threatened to tranquilize him if it meant Fitz left with the team, he finally accepted.

But there is a difference between accepting and giving up. And Fitz would never, ever give up. Because this was Jemma Simmons, for crying out loud. The woman who once built the closest thing to a sonic screw driver current technology could ever produce. The woman who once corrected one of her professors and ended up teaching the class the rest of the term. The woman who once created a counteragent against the Centipede Serum. The woman who once jumped out of a plane in order to save those on board. The woman who survived everything that life threw at her.

If Fitz was going to have hope in anyone, it was going to be her.

So when he left the base, his heart broke, but it didn't shatter, because he knew, deep down, that this wasn't the end. No, he would always have hope for Jemma Simmons. One day, she would return to him.

But still. Fitz couldn't help but let the tears fall as he left the base for the last time.

* * *

One moment the monolith was solid rock, the next it wasn't. This was nothing unusual. It happened several times before since its arrival at the base.

But this time was different.

If anyone had been there for the spectacle, they would have seen a young woman appear inside the case, soaking wet and shivering. They would have noticed how the monolith seemed to evaporate into the air and go into the woman's nostrils as she breathed. The startling blue glow in her eyes would have alarmed them. Her fists clenched around a large knife would have sent shivers down their spines. They would have gasped when she fell, unconscious, and faint, blue breath escaped her lips. They would have seen a woman slumber in her glass cage, unaware of the great change that had just occurred inside her. They would have rejoiced, but with trepidation, because Jemma Simmons was back, but at what cost?

But no one was there. The base was silent.

Abandoned.

A lone note lay on the floor. It was brief. Just a few sentences.

 _Jemma,_

 _I know I said I wouldn't, but I have to leave. I'm sorry, but I don't have choice. I hope you understand._

 _I believe in you. Come back to me._

 _Always yours,_

 _Fitz_


	3. The Revelation

**Well, this has decided to become a full fledged story, it looks like. Who would have thought? Guess I'll be taking it off my list of completed fics. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Not sure when the next one will be. Hopefully a week from now.**

 **Note: I added a small bit to the first chapter, just for a small bit of context. It's not super important, but it's there if you want to check it out.**

 **Also, thanks to all who reviewed, followed, and favorited this little plot bunny of mine. I hope your enjoyment of it continues.**

 **Disclaimer: No. Just no.**

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The first realization Jemma had when she woke up was that she was cold. Very cold. And stiff. Her elbows and knees cracked as she got up from the ground and her back ached tremendously. She leaned against the glass next to her with one hand, the other holding a knife.

Wait, a knife? What was she doing with that? She stared at it, confused, but dropped it when she noticed the blood staining the blade and hilt, going all the way to her right hand. The knife fell and landed with a _clang_ on a glass floor, staining it red. She backed into the wall, gasping. The glass surrounding her seemed to shrink.

Where was she, anyway? She was in a glass enclosure, but where, and more importantly, why?

Trying to calm the rising panic, Jemma took a breath. Now was not the time for her claustrophobia to get the best of her. She closed her eyes and sucked air in deeply.

Once she calmed her herself somewhat, Jemma examined her surroundings and conditions. She was damp. Some of her hair still clung to her cheeks and neck. Her clothes were also wet, although they seemed to be drying already, indicating she hadn't been in contact with water for a while. Her right hand had blood stains on it, as well as her pants and shirt. Just as she was about to make the assumption that none of it was hers, she hissed as her side began to sting. Lifting her shirt up, Jemma examined her wound. A gash about the size of her hand went across her stomach to her side. It wasn't too deep, but it would need stitches. However, Jemma's main concern was infection setting in. But with basically no supplies, there was nothing she could do about it now. At least most of the bleeding seemed to have stopped.

Her next concern was getting out. She pushed on all the walls around her, but none of them budged. One of them seemed to be a door. Locked from the outside, by the looks of it. She paused for a moment, then looked at the knife on the ground. With just the right amount of force on a weak spot in the glass...

Spying a small crack at the base of the door, Jemma picked up the knife and angled the tip on the crack. If she had a hammer, this would have been a lot easier, but she would have to make do. She raised her fist and slammed it on the hilt.

The glass shattered in front of her with ease, and the knife skidded across the room. She was still crouched down, shocked at how easy that was. She expected this to take several attempts, at least.

Shaking her head, Jemma stepped out of the glass box carefully and hissed as her bare feet stepped on the unavoidable glass. The room was empty, but eerily familiar. The hairs on her neck stood up as she looked around. She knew this place.

Jemma spotted something out of place amongst the glass on the floor. Paper. Already in agony over the glass ripping into her calloused feet, she limped over to the paper, hoping for something familiar.

It was a note. She squinted at the words. Her reading was a bit rusty, but she was able to make out what it read.

 _Jemma,_

 _I know I said I wouldn't, but I have to leave. I'm sorry, but I don't have choice. I hope you understand._

 _I believe in you. Come back to me._

 _Always yours,_

 _Fitz._

Fitz...

Who was Fitz?

The name echoed across her mind like a distant dream within a dream. It meant something, obviously, but what?

More importantly, why couldn't she remember?

What did Jemma remember, anyway? She knew her name. How to read. At least a basic understanding of physics and medical procedures. She knew exactly what she needed to do to treat her wound once she had the proper supplies. She knew that a traumatic experience caused her to have claustrophobia. But what else?

She knew she was gone. Gone for a long, long time. A lifetime, perhaps. Or at least it seemed like one. How old was she? Her physical body felt young. Perhaps late twenties. But she felt much, much older.

The monolith.

Jemma's breathing hitched. She remembered. S.H.I.E.L.D. Ward. Inhumans. Coulson. Skye. Hydra. Fitz.

The monolith.

Only to Simmons, that was a lifetime ago. She remembered, but she felt so distant, so removed from the situation. Like those events were dreams or stories she heard as a child. But they were real. She knew that much.

She had a date.

 _Fitz_.

Her heart broke for the man she knew but didn't know at the same time. Her friend. Best friend. More than that, maybe. Could have been more than that.

They had a date.

A tear escaped from her eye, but Jemma wiped it away quickly. She couldn't afford to be emotional. She needed to know what happened to her. Where did she go? How long had it been?

Once Simmons made it past the glass, she collapsed on the ground, too sore to move. The knife she brought back was next to her. Jemma picked it up, examining it carefully. There was something written on the hilt. Another language. To her surprise, she was able to translate it easily.

 _The key_.

Interesting.

Although she was horrified at her current situation, Jemma couldn't help but be intrigued. She was a scientist, after all.

After looking at the knife and finding nothing else of value, she got to work cleaning the glass from her feet. It was a painstaking process, but it needed to be done. Twenty minutes later, most of the glass was gone, and Simmons was standing on her feet, holding the knife close to her in case of trouble. Moving slowly to her old room, she was shocked to see it completely ransacked. She hobbled around the rest of the base. "Coulson? Mack? Sky? Bobbi? Fitz?" Her shouts echoed.

Empty.

She wasn't surprised. If there was anyone here, they would have come when she first appeared. Sighing, she hobbled back to her room and grabbed a change of clothes. Then she headed to the med room.

It didn't take her long to clean up the wound on her side and the cuts on her feet and change into clean clothes. But it took most of her energy, so she sat on the table for a while, catching her breath.

She didn't know what to do. Everyone was gone. The base was ransacked. How long ago? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?

Centuries?

She gulped. No. It couldn't have been. Could it?

Simmons shook her head. Time to think about this critically. Best case scenario; she had only been missing for a few days and the base was compromised between her missing and coming back. Worst case scenario; she pulled a Captain America and everyone she knew and loved was gone.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

She got up from the table and made her way to the phone that was connected to the wall. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she heard the dial tone. Jemma punched in the first numbers that came to her, eager to hear a familiar voice.

She collapsed against the wall as the phone rang and rang and rang. Her hope within her began to fall. He wouldn't answer. He was gone. She was about to hang up the phone when a voice came across the other side. "Hello?"

"Fitz?"

"Yes, who is this?"

Jemma stammered. He didn't recognize her? "It's me, Fitz. Jemma."

The other end was silent for a long time. Maybe he didn't hear her. Or he hung up. "Are you there, Fitz?"

She heard his breath over the phone. "I can't believe it. It's really you?"

Jemma wanted to cry. "Yes, Fitz. It's really me."

"Where? Where are you?" He shouted. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?" His voice sounded panicky.

"I'm at the base. I'm okay, for the most part. Could, could you come get me?"

"Of course, Jemma. Sit tight, okay? We'll be there soon." She could hear him shouting at other people and chuckled.

"Thank you, Fitz."

"Always, Simmons."

"Hey, Fitz."

"Yeah?"

"Don't hang up."

"Don't worry. I won't. I'm never leaving you."

"Good." Jemma's eyes became heavy. "I think I'm going to take a nap. If you don't mind."

"I'll be here when you wake up."

She smiled. "Can't wait." Her eyes closed.

Then she was gone.

* * *

The phone swung from its chord. Her old, tattered clothes were still on the table. Her bloody rags were still in the trash. Evidence of someone being there.

But Jemma had vanished.

When Fitz walked into the base with Coulson, he had been so full of hope. Optimism. Excitement.

But when they arrived and the base was empty again, his soul was crushed. And this time it felt like it was incapable of repair.

"Are you sure it was her?" Coulson asked. Someone had to.

Fitz nodded. "I was positive. It had to be-"

Suddenly, she was there, on her knees in front of him. She appeared out of thin air.

She looked different. In a strange way, older. Her hair was short and ragged. Her clothes were dirty and bloody. She looked shocked. Stunned. Confused. A knife was in her right hand.

Her stomach was bleeding profusely.

Jemma's eyes stared into his. "Fitz?" Her voice was confused. She looked around. "I was here, and then I wasn't." She tried to get up but stumbled and fell back down. "I think, I think..."

"Jemma!" Fitz ran forward. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here. Shh. I'm here, okay? You asked and I came. Remember?"

"Yes, but that was so long ago." She whispered.

"It was only an hour ago, Simmons. What are you talking about? I was on the phone with you the whole time. You fell asleep." He knew what she was saying. Fitz just refused to believe it.

"No. Fitz. No. I remember. That was five months ago."

"Okay. Okay, fine, but we need to get you help."

"I'm fine-"

"Don't even try that. Coulson! Daisy! I've got Simmons!"

"Fitz."

"Save your breath, Jemma."

"Fitz, this is important. You need to know."

"It can wait."

"No, Fitz. It really can't, especially if I pass out." Her breathing was coming in short bursts. "I think I'm an Inhuman." Then her eyes closed and she vanished from his arms, without a trace.

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 **I appreciate all reviews! What are your thoughts so far? What do you think is happening to Simmons?**


	4. Wondering

**Another short one, but I'm pretty sure the next chapter will be much longer. Don't worry.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. This makes me sad, so lets not talk about it anymore.**

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One moment, Simmons was falling asleep while on the phone with Fitz. The next, she was somewhere else.

The first thing she registered was the water filling her lungs. Her throat burned as she accidentally sucked in water through her nose and mouth. Panic swept through her as her arms flailed to find the surface, so far unsuccessfully. Darkness crept into the corner of her eyes as spots danced before her. This was it.

What a lame way to go.

Simmons was pissed. After everything she'd been through, everything that had happened, she was going to die because she woke up in a pond. Well, she refused. This would not be how she died. What would Fitz say? Coulson? Skye?

With renewed energy, Simmons kicked upwards (at least she assumed it was up) and moved her arms, trying to propel to the surface. However, her limbs seemed heavy, and it felt like she wasn't moving.

This really was it.

Simmons let her body rest in the water as she sank to the bottom. One of her worst fears, coming true.

There is an interesting moment between life and death. It's a small moment in time, but a lot can go through a person's mind during those last few moments. Lots of wondering.

Memories played before her eyes. Fitz confessing how he felt about her when they were trapped. Her, dragging him to the surface of the ocean with her, thinking he was dead. Her heart felt like it was being ripped out of her chest.

She wonders, briefly, if Fitz felt that way when she disappeared. For a moment, she's sorry for calling him, for allowing him to have hope for her.

She wonders if he will ever know that she died. Will anyone? Or was she destined to remain here, at the bottom of the pond or whatever body of water she was in?

She wonders about her parents. Mum and Dad. They would be sad, wouldn't they? They'd have to throw a funeral without a body. Simmons went to a funeral like that once. A family friend had died in a boating accident, and they never found the body. Her parents felt sorry for the family, commenting on how they'd never have closure. That would be them, now.

She wonders about what happened to her when she disappeared in the monolith. She still couldn't fully remember, but she knew that so much had happened. At this point, Simmons supposed she'd never know, which broke her heart more than she expected.

She wonders about her knife. It had fallen from her grasp when she tried swimming for the surface. For some reason, this set an unreasonable amount of panic within her. As someone who wasn't extremely prone to sentimentality, she found this to be interesting. What caused her to have such a deep connection with an inanimate object she barely remembered?

And lastly, Jemma wonders about Fitz again. She loved him, she knew that now. It just took her longer than most to realize it. And now he'd never know. Maybe that was what broke her heart the most.

All of this wondering occurred within a few moments. Seconds.

Then all was dark.

* * *

Someone dove into the water when they spotted her. Hands grabbed her body and pulled her to the surface. They slammed on her heart, trying to start it again.

"Don't die on me."

The person filled her lungs with air. Nothing. More chest compressions. More air. Still nothing.

"Ary, it's not working."

"Shut it, Ilo." Ary kept going. More compressions. More air. Still nothing.

"Ary-"

"I said shut it!" More compressions. More air.

Then, breathing.

Ary shouted and jumped up.

Jemma Simmons was alive.

* * *

 **Well, there you have it folks. Chapter four. Let me know what you thought! It would make my day.**

 **And two things; check out the poll on my profile! You'd win all the brownie points. Second, I think I've decided to make Wednesday my update day for this fic. So look out for another chapter next Wednesday!**

 **Don't forget to review, follow, favorite, you know, all that good stuff.**

 **Live long and prosper, my friends!**


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